Angels in uniforms behead
sinister monsters, lurking beneath beds.
My babies, I still hold, with a heart laid bare;
healed scrapes and cuts on knees still glare.
Fear and pride gnawing as toys are stored away;
but, my young men of today were born just yesterday!
Angels in uniforms; mother still straightens bends;
addressed as adults, but childhood never ends.
My babies, forever, I see, looking into their eyes;
threaded together; love always survives.
Thoughts bleed through me, entertaining my time;
tiny feet wild and free, now boots, patent leather shine.
Angels in uniforms, transcend
malignant monsters toward their dismal end.
My babies, forever, I hear; sweet child prayers to share;
tears cannot justify this womb’s unsettled fare.
Joy and pain mixing; such a strange blend.
Heroes’ wounds heal slow, skinned knees, a quick mend.
Protecting my babies, as men, they protect me.
But momma refuses to quit rearing,
as she continues to watch over her babies’ needs.
Copyright ©Tamara Yancosky – All Rights Reserved